


Eleven Ways Trobed Didn’t Happen (Or One Way It Did)

by aformofmotion



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 15:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1749410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aformofmotion/pseuds/aformofmotion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Does pretty much what it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eleven Ways Trobed Didn’t Happen (Or One Way It Did)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to tumblr 16 December 2013. Only cosmetic changes have been made since then.

**i.**

"Hey," Troy says, dropping into his usual seat kiddie-corner Abed. "Did you know there’s a betting pool on when we’re going to start dating?"

"Yep." He mouths the ‘p’ a few more times before continuing. "As far as the student body is concerned we’re a foregone conclusion. Everyone in the study group but Pierce has agreed to split the profit with us if we help them win."

"You mean like get together when they think we will?" Abed nods. "Huh. That’s… not weird at all. Okay, so who wins if it’s today?"

Abed is silent for a minute. “Depends. Annie if it’s before lunch, Britta if it’s after.”

"I’m cool with that. You can pick who you want to win, and I’ll ask you on a date."

"Annie," he says quickly. "Why do you get to ask?"

"I dunno. No reason, I guess. You can ask. Whatever."

Abed looks at him thoughtfully. “No, I was just curious. You can ask.”

Troy hides a grin. “Cool. You wanna go on a date with me instead of sitting through study group?”

"Yes." He takes Troy’s hand and they stand up to go just as the rest of the group file in.

"Where are you two off to in such a hurry?" Shirley asks.

Troy pauses in the doorway just long enough to say, “Me and Abed are skipping study group today to go on a date.”

**ii.**

In the middle of their movie marathon, Troy gets up to get a snack and leans over absently to kiss the corner of Abed’s mouth. He doesn’t even notice he’s done it until Abed doesn’t answer his ‘hey, do you want anything?’ and he looks back to find him just sitting there, staring blankly ahead without moving. He runs over the last few minutes in his head and _oh shit_.

He takes a step forward before realising that this time there isn’t anything he can do to help, mumbles something he hopes sounds like an apology, and flees to the kitchen. The dishes need to be done so he does them, then lets his hands stay in the water until it goes cold and his fingers turn into raisins. He’s not _hiding_ , just giving Abed space.

Eventually, Abed comes in and stands just behind him, close enough to feel his body heat but not close enough to touch. “Hey.”

"Hey."

"What did it mean?" Abed asks in a voice that sounds like it hurts. "And if it means what circumstances dictate it should mean, I have a follow up question. Are you sure? Because if you change your mind tomorrow or in an hour or next week, a broken heart isn’t on the list of things I want to experience before graduation."

"I could break your heart?" he asks, surprise chasing away the answer he means to give.

He can almost hear Abed blink. “Of course you could.”

And that’s the last straw, really. He resists the urge to turn around and kiss him again, because gestures are all well and good but Abed needs to hear the words right now, so he removes his hands from the dishwater, dries them carefully, and grabs onto the edge of the counter. His words, but not his move.

"It means everything. And I’m not going to change my mind. I don’t think I could stand it if I was the one who broke your heart."

"Cool," Abed says, and the other three cools are lost with the space between them when he closes the gap and pretty much drapes himself over Troy’s back. Which is how Annie finds them later when she goes to make lunch.

**iii.**

They’re filming another sex scene for another movie Abed is making, and Troy gets a boner. It’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened, but it is the first time Abed’s been on top of him when it happens, and so it’s the first time Abed notices. He goes completely still and then tilts his head curiously, breaking character like he never does. Troy opens his mouth to stutter an apology but the sound that comes out is closer to a gasp because Abed chooses that moment to roll his goddamn hips, watching Troy’s face with sharp curiousity.

"Ah," he says after a second. "Cool. Cool cool cool. But if we’re going to transition from a fake sex scene to a real one we should probably re-establish consent. I’ll go first: I consent. Your turn."

Troy has to try a couple times before he manages to get words out. “Seriously?”

"Of course. Consent is a very important issue-"

"No, no, I got that part. Consent is good, and yes, I do, by the way, but the first part. The part about real sex."

"Oh." He frowns. "Only if you want me to be. We could do ten seconds of awkward silence and jump away from each other dramatically instead."

"God, I love you," Troy breathes in a rush. Abed smiles slightly. "You should totally kiss me now."

**iv.**

Eventually Jeff just gets sick of it and actually literally shouts at them, apropos nothing, “For the love of God, either dial back the bromance or _actually start dating!"_

Silence reigns for the span of several heartbeats.

"Why?" Abed asks.

Jeff just stares at them looking a combination of angry and confused.

It’s Britta who finds the words that will actually get through to him. “Because queerbaiting is an awful media practice and you’re better than that!”

"Oh," he says. He looks at Troy thoughtfully for a minute. "Okay. Boyfriends?"

"Cool."

They do the handshake.

**v.**

About a week after the Valentine’s Dance, Mariah walks by the two of them in the library, shakes her head, and then walks over to their table.

"What do you want?" Abed says without inflecting or looking up from his textbook. Troy actually glares at her.

"Wow. Hostile. Okay." She fidgets for a second. "I have something to say."

Troy reaches for Abed’s hand like it’s an instinct, like protection or reassurance, and laces their fingers together without looking away from her.

"That’s exactly what I’m talking about," she says, motioning between the two of them.

"You haven’t said anything yet."

"Right. The thing is… you’re clearly in love with each other."

“ _What?_ " Troy squeaks. Abed does look up, at that, head tilted thoughtfully.

"Seriously, how are you not aware of this? You must be the only ones on campus not to have caught on already. It’s getting kind of painful to watch."

"She… might have a point," Troy says hesitantly.

Abed nods. “It would explain a lot about our characterization this s-“

"Don’t say season."

"-semester," Abed finishes smoothly. "That makes our attempt to both date the cute librarian-"

"Still standing here," Mariah points out. "And I have a name."

"-an obvious example of sublimation and the fact that we didn’t get together immediately afterward must have sorely disappointed the audience."

"There is no audience, Abed," Troy says fondly.

"There’s us."

"Shut up, Leonard," Mariah says over her shoulder.

"I think this is the part where I list all the other signs that we’ve missed until you kiss me to shut me up and the studio audience goes ‘aww’," Abed says helpfully. "But we can skip that if you-"

"Aww," Mariah says half-sarcastically. She rolls her eyes and walks away.

**vi.**

They make it back home so late at night they don’t even bother changing into their pajamas, and neither of them feels up to the challenge of getting up the ladder, so they just collapse together on the bottom bunk. When Troy wakes up in the morning they aren’t just pressed up against each other’s sides like when they fall asleep in front of the tv, they’re actually properly snuggling, arms wrapped around each other, legs tangled up together. Abed’s face is somehow pressed into the crook of his neck, one of his hands is warm on Abed’s skin where his shirt has slipped up in the night. It’s really comfortable, so he makes a tiny contented noise and lays there basking in it.

"I’m awake," Abed says eventually.

"Okay."

"And I know you’re awake."

"I know."

They lay there for a while longer, neither of them moving.

"Is this weird?" Troy asks.

"Probably." Abed lifts his head. "Will you be upset if I go get a bowl of cereal now?"

"Maybe a little."

"Okay." He settles back down, shifting the tiniest bit to give Troy’s arm better circulation.

**vii.**

They share a pillowfort bedroom and a bunkbed, so this was pretty much inevitable.

The first time is an accident. Abed walks in on Troy with his hand around his dick, and he doesn’t _mean_ to watch, but it’s a little bit hypnotizing, and he can’t help it, stands there stock still and hardly daring to breath, but something must tip Troy off because his eyes fly open as he comes and he stares at Abed with an unreadable expression on his face.

"There’s probably an explanation for this that doesn’t make me look like a pervert."

"S’fine," Troy says, his voice slurred and sleepy. "I’ll watch you nex’ time, call it even."

So the second time is reciprocation, except that Abed doesn’t play fair and looks him the eye the whole time, in a way that makes him feel all hot and wobbly on the inside for the next two days. It’s not unpleasant, exactly, just confusing, and it’s been so long since he’s been confused by Abed that _that’s_ worrying in its own way.

The third time is worse, or maybe better, Troy isn’t sure anymore. Abed lifts the flap to the blanket fort and freezes, his eyes sliding over Troy’s body like he can’t help it. It makes him feel like he’s on fire, but in a good way.

"Oh. Sorry. I’m just getting a DVD, don’t let my presense deter you."

But Troy isn’t put off _at all_. In fact, he’d be perfectly fine if Abed wanted to stay and look at him some more, or maybe take his clothes off so Troy could look too. That seems like the sort of revelation he should share with Abed, but when he tries all that comes out is an embarassingly choked sounding noise, and it’s not exactly the sort of thing he can bring up later.

The fourth time is defintely on purpose, though. He walks in to find Abed on display - it’s obviously a display, at that angle, and it would look completely ridiculous if it weren’t so hot (and how did he even manage that are his bones made of rubber) - staring at the door like he’s expecting something. Troy almost turns around and leaves, but it’s such a pointed gesture that he can’t make himself move without saying _something._

"I, uh, I could come back later," he says, and is surprised at how steady his voice is, even if it is more than an octave too high.

"Do whatever you want," Abed says in a breathless voice that _has_ to be a character.

That’s an invitation, there’s nothing else it could be, no other way for Troy to take it, but it’s… wrong. It’s too soon, in a way that Abed would have been able to explain to him if he weren’t the one causing the confusion. He shakes his head and reaches out blindly for something to sit down on.

"Pacing," he says, because he has to say something and that’s close to what he means. Abed’s eyes go wide in surprise and then something else that tells Troy that was exactly the right thing to say.

It’s almost a week of no incidents later before he hears the telltale rustling of cloth from the bunk above him. “Abed?”

"Yeah, Troy?"

"Can you come down here, or is it still too soon?"

By way of response, Abed swings himself down into the bottom bunk so that he lands him on top of Troy without ever having touched the floor. Troy would be impressed if he wasn’t immediately distracted by other things. A couple minutes of awkward fumbling and panting loudly in each others ears leaves them a sticky, sleepy mess.

"Do we have to talk about this?" Abed asks from somewhere above his head. Troy just kisses the nearest bit of exposed skin and falls asleep.

**viii.**

Shirley corners them in the hallways one day and demands, in that guilt-inducing way she has, to know why they don’t trust the group enough to tell them that they’re dating. They let her keep talking, mostly because they can’t get a word in edgewise, until she runs out of objections to counter and slows to a stop.

"Shirley, uh, we’re not dating," Troy says.

She looks at them skeptically. “You’re not?”

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure I’d notice if we were."

"Well, why on earth not?" she asks, then claps her hands over her mouth.

"Abed’s too good for me," Troy says.

At the same time, Abed says, “Troy’s straight.”

There’s a moment of silence so thick you could cut it with butter.

"No, I’m… not?" Troy says.

"Me neither. And that’s a stupid reason."

"Good Lord, what have I done?" Shirley says, running from the room with one hand covering her eyes.

**ix.**

The first time Abed follows Troy into the bathroom and sits down with his back to the shower stall is a surprise, and not just because he forgot that he’d ever mentioned feeling lonely in there. But after that, it turns into a routine, and he gets used to it, used to having long, pointless conversations while one or the other of them is naked. It isn’t weird until he actually thinks about it, and then it’s the only thing he _can_ think about. Abed carries the conversation, and Troy’s showers get colder and colder until it’s an effort to keep his teeth from chattering, but he refuses to shorten them. This is his favourite part of the day, even if it does usually leave him with insides that feel like jelly.

The problem is that Abed is going to call him on it eventually, and he’s not sure how he’s going to survive that conversation when Abed talking about _Blorgon surgical procedures_ is enough to get him hard in spite of the ice cold water.

That’s what he’s trying - and failing - to focus on when Abed shoves the shower curtain aside and reaches past him to turn the water termperature up. He jumps about a foot in the air before he forces himself to stop panicking. “Abed, what-“

"You’ll give yourself hypothermia if you keep this up," Abed says, in a clipped tone that Troy is 80% sure is a character. "The ‘forced to share body heat’ storyline is cliche and pretty bad for you; I thought you’d say something before it went this far."

"What-" He breaks off. That’s never going to fly, at this point. "You knew?"

He expects a new character, something soap-y, expects ‘of course I knew’ or ‘everybody knows’ or even ‘how could I not’. But what he gets is the same even, clipped voice saying, “At first I wasn’t sure you knew yourself. You don’t seem to be aware of it during the day-“

"Pants help."

"But over time your newfound hypersensitivity to my voice added to the frequent temperature of your showers started to make make sense. What I didn’t understand was why you didn’t just masturbate-"

Troy shudders all over and throws up his hand like he can stop Abed from saying anything else, and wonder of wonders it actually seems to work. He takes a shaky breath, then another, and congratulates himself on neither hyperventilating nor coming all over himself. “Abed, I’m gonna need you to not say things like that.”

"Why?"

“ _Why?_ Because- because…” He turns to stare at Abed incredulously, forgetting for just half a second where they are and how they’re (not) dressed, and finds Abed looking at him in a way that very nearly takes his legs out from under him. He trails off. “Abed?”

"Hmm?"

"D-Do you want to come in here _with_ me?”

Something very like relief appears in Abed’s eyes. “Oh. Yes. I had a few more things to say, but they aren’t important if you’ve got the point.”

**x.**

The Dance Class has a ballroom dancing competition, and Troy’s partner drops out literally five minutes before they have to hit the stage. Abed volunteers to step in, and Troy is skeptical, because Abed usually moves with all the grace of a baby giraffe, but his only other option is to drop out.

Only, Troy never knew that Abed had learned tap from watching _Britta_ , and Abed has watched Troy practice his routines for the last three weeks. It goes fantastically.

Abed is so good at it that Troy stumbles twice at the beginning and then spends the rest of the time staring at him in wonder. He switches seamlessly between leading and following, hands on Troy’s shoulders, on his hips, on the small of his back, wherever they need to be. Troy goes through all six routines in a kind of daze and finds it over before he can figure out why this is so different from any other time he’s danced with a partner.

Yeah, he likes the way he feels when he dances and sometimes he gets a little bit lost in the music, but not like this. Not like his skin is fizzing like champagne and he wouldn’t be able to find his way back on his own.

"Don’t let go," he says before he can stop himself, on the way back up from the final dip.

"Okay," Abed says, and instead of pulling away he slips his arm around Troy’s waist and hooks his thumb through a beltloop, leads him off stage. They’ve walked around this way before and Troy’s 75% sure it’s never made him shiver before.

He feels punch drunk, light and warm like he might float away if Abed wasn’t holding him down. “Did you put some kind of voodoo love spell on me or something?”

"No." Abed looks at him sideways. "Do you wish I had?"

"Nah," he says, leaning into Abed’s side. "Then it’d have to wear off."

**xi.**

It’s supposed to be just girls in pajamas that turn Troy on. Girls, not his best friend. But more and more these days the sight of Abed in his green spaceship pajamas is making all the blood rush away from his brain to somewhere decidedly lower on his anatomy. It’s really distracting, especially when he’s supposed to be paying attention to what Abed’s saying, double especially when he’s not sure if he can talk about it with Abed.

"What?" he asks.

"That’s the third time you’ve zoned out on me today," Abed says. It’s not an accusation, just a statement of fact. "What are you thinking about?"

"Pajamas," he mumbles.

Abed tilts his head. “You’re going to have to elaborate.”

He looks up and the concern in Abed’s eyes makes the decision for him. Of course he can talk to Abed about this, he can talk to Abed about anything. “You’re really hot, Abed.”

"Hot like I have a fever or hot like-"

"Hot like I get a boner if I look at you too long, and I kind of want to kiss you and stick my hand in your pants and do a lot of things that straight dudes don’t do with other dudes."

Abed’s eyes dilate so far that only the tiniest sliver of colour is still visible. “We can do that.”

"We… we _can?_ ”

"You’ll probably have to drop the word ‘straight’ from both of our character bios, but yeah. Yes. Definitely."

**xii.**

"We have to stop this," Troy says. "I’m losing track of the line between reality and simulation."

"Okay."

"Okay?" Troy repeats, because clearly Abed doesn’t _get_ it. “Abed, I’m _losing track of the line between reality and simulation._ " He stands there with his mouth moving but no sound coming out, unsure how to make himself more clear without actually saying ‘I’m starting to forget that we’re not actually dating’.

"Ah," Abed says, looking at him. "I understand."

"You do?"

"You’ve finally figured out that we’re attracted to each other and you’re worried that it will ruin our friendship, but it won’t."

"It won’t?"

"Nope. You’re not going to do anything about it because your macho image is still pretty important to you and being attracted to another guy would deviate from the way you want to present yourself. I figured it out last month, it’s cool. Cool cool cool."

There are _so many_ things in that speech that Troy needs to address that he doesn’t quite know where to begin. What finally makes it out of his mouth is, “You’ve known for a month and you didn’t _tell_ me? Isn’t that kind of creepy, Abed?”

Abed shakes his head. “No, I told you, you’re not going to do anything about it, and with that in mind, Queer as Folk was wrong, and unrequited love is useless and a lazy storytelling tactic. If you pretend it doesn’t exist then it might as well not, and it doesn’t have to affect the story at all. That’s where most people have a problem, they can’t pretend as well as I can.”

Troy takes a minute to parse that, and once he does it breaks his heart in more ways than he knows how to say. “Abed-“

"It’s okay, Troy. I came to terms with it a while ago, you don’t have to worry about it. We’ll find something else to play in the Dreamatorium."

"It’s not okay," he says. Abed’s head snaps up, and he repeats it. "It’s not okay. Abed, you got something _wrong_. I’m not gonna have a Big Gay Freakout or whatever it is you’re thinking. I figured out I was bi in eighth grade, I just don’t go after dudes because my gaydar doesn’t work and hitting on straight dudes never ends well.”

Abed tilts his head. “The ratio of risk to reward makes pursing women the simplest option.”

"Sure, if you want to get all big-wordy about it." He shrugs. "I don’t think about it much. Now, you take that and plug it into whatever thing you did in your brain to come up with ‘it doesn’t matter’, and when you finish that, I’ll be in the blanket fort, okay?"

"No, stay. It’s only one variable, it won’t take long." Troy, already halfway to his feet, sits back down. Abed’s eyes track like he’s reading and he tilts his head three more times, and then he stares at Troy with wide eyes and his mouth slightly open.

"Done processing that?" Troy asks. "Because I really want to kiss you now, but I’ll wait if it’s going to send you into catatonic shock or something."

Abed doesn’t answer him for long enough that he nods to himself and starts to get up again, and that’s when Abed’s hand shoots out and grabs his sleeve. “I’m experiencing a paradigm shift,” he says slowly. “But I think the kissing will help ease the transition.”

"I have no idea what any of that means," Troy says. "But I heard yes to the kissing."

"Yes," Abed says. Troy cracks his knuckles, then frames Abed’s face with his hands and kisses him slow and careful. There’s a bit of a delay before Abed starts to kiss him back, like he isn’t entirely running at full speed yet, and then he sort of loses himself in it, loses track of time entirely until Abed pulls back and says, "My lips are numb."

"Mine too," Troy says, then gets distracted looking at Abed’s mouth - it’s really pretty, and really, really swollen, and _he did that_. He reaches out to touch it with his fingers and grins. “I love you,” he says, because he can’t think of a single reason not to.

"I love you too," Abed says, then pauses for effect. "This is the part where a tasteful movie would fade to black or pan the camera up."

Troy glances at the clock on the wall. “It’s post-watershed, I don’t think we have to worry about that.”


End file.
